What makes a good backcountry traveler? To answer that question, it might be instructive to consider some of the best backcountry travelers in human history: the Native American Indians. In a desperate— and ultimately futile—attempt to escape the U.S. cavalry, the Nez Percé Indians traveled upwards of 40 miles a day through the roughest country imaginable in 1877. In a wonderful book titled Children of Grace, Bruce Hampton describes the plight of the Nez Percé as they outwitted and out-traveled the U.S. cavalry for several months and over several hundred miles of country. Despite traveling with infants, aged, and the ill, the Nez Percé crossed great rivers, hunted game, stole horses, negotiated steep valleys and passes, left scant signs of their passage, and navigated brilliantly to stay just a step ahead of the government soldiers. So efficient and so clever were the Nez Percé that their efforts caused one particularly hardened soldier to concede, “I am actually beginning to admire their bravery and their endurance in the face of so many well-equipped enemies.”V
Children of Grace is a terribly sad story, but reading it, I felt the same thing the soldier felt: keen admiration for their mastery of travel in the wilderness. Certainly that mastery came of living in the wilderness day in and day out and few of us will ever approach their level of competence. But some modern men and women who spend a lot of time in the backcountry learn to be remarkably capable travelers. We’re not talking brute force here. We’re not talking about humping a pack 30 miles without breaking a sweat (or suffering a thought). Certainly it does help to be strong, but intelligence, highly developed skills, and, pardon me here, judgment born of experience or using your brain, go further than the heroic power of a triathlete.
So what does it take to be a really good backcountry traveler? You have to know how to conserve energy, how to feed and hydrate your body, how to navigate, how to read the terrain and know what’s really dangerous versus merely tricky, and how to keep your and your group’s morale running high. Most any reasonably intelligent person with the desire to learn those things can. But learning those skills takes some time, thought, and even reflection. The novice sets out to cross a patch of hard-featured terrain and, upon encountering a steep, shaley, exposed slope—far more treacherous than anything he has ever crossed—sensibly turns around. The question is planted in his head: What terrain can I safely cross and what terrain is beyond my skills? The smart novice will seek tutorship from—who knows—his local mountain club, a mountaineering course, or just an experienced friend. Armed with more knowledge and experience, he comes upon similar terrain on a later trip, and now crosses it, still within his comfort level, or perhaps turns around again but this time more sure of his decision. This conservative approach in the backcountry may be construed as too cautious or, worse, cowardly, but that’s how some of the best mountaineers in the world learned their art. Patiently developing their skills, they reach the level where they can comfortably cross terrain that was once truly hairy to them.
Every time you get a little lost, underestimate the distance on your map, manage to keep your shelter up in a raging storm—every time you manage those setbacks without maiming yourself or the friends traveling with you, you become a better traveler. But it is an art or a skill that only comes with time spent in the backcountry.
If you have never carried a heavy pack over difficult terrain, you may be surprised at how exhausting it is the first couple of days. People new to backpacking struggle with balancing heavy loads, using new muscles they never knew they had, and adjusting to the discomfort of a pack. Even veterans suffer the first few days if they have had too easy a winter. You can make your life easier by practicing energy conservation techniques, staying hydrated, and feeding yourself frequently.
Novices to the backcountry often make one of two mistakes. The ambitious ones leave the roadhead like a shot and race up the trail only to exhaust themselves shortly into the day. The ones in poor physical condition slog along the trail and stop for long and frequent breaks. Neither approach leads to efficient backcountry travel. Walk at a steady pace all day, taking short rest breaks at regular intervals, and in the long run you can travel more miles with fewer injuries than if you go trucking across the hills in a hurry.
How fast we travel in the backcountry depends on the fitness level of the entire group, the terrain, the altitude, and our pack weight. But we will be most efficient if we choose a pace that the entire group can maintain comfortably for hours. One of the best ways to measure and regulate your pace is to pay close attention to the tempo of your breathing. The idea is that your breathing should determine your pace, not the other way around. Paul Petzoldt likens it to keeping your engine running at the same RPMs all day, no matter the terrain. On level ground, let’s say you take three steps per inhalation and three steps per exhalation. Climbing a hill, while maintaining the same breathing rate, your steps per inhalation may fall to two or even one. At very high altitudes on steep terrain, your pace may slow to several breaths per step.
A good rule of thumb is to hike at a pace slow enough so that you can carry on a conversation (if a breathless one going up hills). Hiking is an aerobic sport and you want to keep your heart rate at an aerobic level (below 150 beats per minute). Since you’ll resemble the proverbial tortoise carrying your pack anyway, you might as well travel like the tortoise, not the profligate hare.
Keep in mind the time you’ll be spending in the mountains. Perhaps you can afford to exhaust yourself if you’re only going on an overnight trip, but if you plan something longer than three days, you will need energy later on. If you hike too hard the first couple of days, you run the risk of injury and illness.
You don’t want to hike so hard that you get to camp too exhausted to take care of camp chores and deal with an emergency if necessary. Just as you always want to have an extra dry layer of clothes in the event of very cold weather, you want to maintain some reserve of energy throughout your day and throughout the entirety of the trip.
When hiking, do not take too many rest breaks and do not prolong them. If you have to stop every 20 minutes for a rest break, it means you are either hiking too fast or do not have the physical conditioning or both. You will never get anywhere if you stop every few minutes and you will not develop rhythm and momentum. A good rule of thumb is to hike an hour and rest 10 minutes. You may want to extend the time between breaks depending on how you feel. The point is if you can develop a rhythm of steady hiking with short and regular breaks, you will go farther and faster than the person who stops and starts sporadically. The other problem with long breaks is that you grow sluggish if you rest for more than about 15 minutes. In a group, coordinate your rests so that everyone knows when to put their pack on to go and no one ends up standing there with their 60-pound pack while their friends are still looking for the sunscreen.
It’s one thing to find a perfect pace for yourself and quite another to find the right pace for the entire group. If you’re lucky, and traveling with a few buddies who are perfectly matched physically, the pace of the whole group may fit the pace of all the individuals. But usually there are discrepancies— fast hikers and slower hikers; people who come from sea level and people who have been living at 6,000 feet; those in perfect health and those having a bad day or suffering from sore feet. Ultimately the pace of your group should be determined by the slowest hiker in your party. Before you even begin your trip, you should agree that the gait along the trail will be comfortable for the weakest member in the group. It can be very frustrating for someone in tremendous physical condition to have to slow his or her pace for the ones less conditioned. Keeping up the morale of the weaker hikers while minimizing the frustration of the fleet hikers is a balancing act and a test of leadership. A pace that exhausts the weak members will, in the long run, lead to morale problems and even health problems. You might consider putting the slowest hiker up front so he or she sets the pace for everyone else. If possible, take some weight from the weaker members and redistribute it among the brutes (this should only be done within reason; try not to carry more than 40 percent of your body weight). A person pushed to his or her physical limits and made to feel a burden to the group will be sapped mentally, demoralized, and will certainly travel more slowly than if he or she were encouraged and accommodated.
The strong hiker can be given the task of map reading or even be put in charge of keeping everyone happy on the trail—call it the trail boss. Navigating tasks or leadership responsibilities will distract him or her from having to walk more slowly.
When climbing hills with a heavy pack, some people use what’s known as the rest step. The rest step, as the name implies, is a technique that gives the muscles of your leg a momentary rest between strides. It’s a simple technique but one that nevertheless takes some getting used to. With the rest step, you momentarily straighten and lock the knee of your weight-bearing leg just before you step onto your other foot. By straightening the weight-bearing leg, instead of always being on a bent leg, you briefly rest your weight on your skeletal structure instead of just your leg muscles.
When carrying a heavy pack (30 percent or more of your body weight) some people like to walk almost flat-footed. Without weight on our backs, we naturally roll up onto the ball of our foot with every step. But with the 50-pound pack, the normal stride onto the toe can wear out calf muscles over the course of a few miles and give you sore spots or blisters on your heels. Walking flat-footed puts more of the work on your thigh muscles and less work on your calf muscles, while also taking some of the pressure off the skin of your heel.
I know great travelers who use the rest step and also walk very flat-footed; I also know great travelers who walk up on their toes as if they are carrying no pack at all. Experiment with these two techniques and find a style that suits you best.
If you’re just hiking with one or two other people, assigning special roles to each person may seem silly. But with groups of four or more, and with groups of people new to each other’s company (on a commercial trip or in an institutional setting, for example), you may find that you can travel more efficiently if you assign tasks. On some NOLS courses, instructors and students pick a leader, a navigator, and a sweeper. The leader’s job is to maintain the big picture, make judgments about difficult terrain, keep tabs on the condition of individual group members, and delegate subordinate tasks. The leader should not have to map read and navigate on the trail, as it will distract her from keeping track of the rest of the group. The leader should travel in the middle of the group or circulate from front to back as the day progresses so she can stay in touch with the whole party.
The navigator obviously has to travel at the front of the party. His job is to pick the best route to the destination, be it on trails or off trail. It is the navigator’s responsibility to study the route in advance and familiarize himself with the terrain ahead so he can keep the group on track. The navigator should travel with map in hand (or in a convenient pocket) so he can consult his map frequently. He should consult with the group when he has doubts about his route or his location on the map but should not be crowded or constantly second-guessed by the rest of the group. The job of navigator can be difficult and he should be given the time and space to think and plan.
The sweeper travels at the end of the group to make sure no one falls behind or gets lost. While it can sometimes happen that the slowest person ends up being the sweeper, as we have discussed above, always having the slowest person at the end can be demoralizing. The assigned sweeper should stay in touch with the leader and advise her if the pace is too fast.
In the course of a hard day hiking in the sun, I sometimes feel myself getting grouchy and the smallest things—missing a trail junction or tripping over a tree root—irritate me. If my campmates are lucky, I recognize one of the symptoms of dehydration and stop and drink some water. Acutely dehydrated, I can find reason to grumble about nearly anything under the sun.
Perhaps the second most used dictum of NOLS instructors—after “Use your judgment”—is “Drink some water.” I have seen fellow instructors recommend a chug from the water bottle for ailments ranging from fatigue to headaches. It’s good advice. The water in our bodies carries nutrients, oxygen, enzymes, and hormones, controls body temperature, flushes out toxins, and eliminates waste products. Unless you are in the desert, where water is scarce, staying well hydrated is one of the easiest, cheapest, and most effective things you can do to keep a high level of energy, travel efficiently, and stay healthy.
We constantly lose water from sweating, urinating, breathing, and defecating (human feces are roughly 70 percent water). When we’re working hard and sweating heavily we can lose up to a liter of water per hour. At high altitudes where the air is dry, you can dehydrate yourself merely by breathing at rest. If you have ever dried your clothes on a clothesline in the Rocky Mountains, you can imagine that a climate that dries a towel in about twenty minutes can suck you dry pretty fast too.
Under “normal” conditions our bodies’ thirst mechanisms—a dry mouth, the hypothalamus, and hormones in the kidneys—stimulate us to drink enough water to stay properly hydrated. But if we are working very hard and sweating profusely, if we are in a very hot or dry climate, or if we have an aggravating condition such as diarrhea, or nausea that causes vomiting, we have to drink water deliberately and regularly regardless of how thirsty we feel.
Dehydration impairs humans both physically and mentally. As you become dehydrated you lower your blood plasma volume and consequently your heart has to work harder to keep body tissues supplied with blood. The result is a decrease in cardiovascular performance. Dehydrated, your body is also less able to dissipate heat through sweat. Finally, you impair your ability to digest and metabolize food when your body is low on water.
Your physical performance begins to decline when you lose as little as 1 percent of your body’s weight in water. If a 150-pound person is down just a quart of water, his body’s ability to regulate heat and his exercise performance starts to slip. Down three quarts of water, that 150-pound person will lose 20 to 30 percent of his exercise performance. The following table shows water loss as it relates to performance and symptoms.
Studies have shown that prehydration—drinking extra water before a strenuous activity—will also help performance. Fortunately the best thing to drink—and certainly the simplest and cheapest—is just plain cold water. Studies have shown that the carbohydrate-electrolyte enhanced drinks such as Gatorade and ERG are no more easily absorbed by the intestines than just plain water. Some studies even suggest that the extra sugar and electrolytes in these drinks impairs the body’s ability to absorb fluid. The one advantage the commercial drinks have is that their sweet, fruity flavors entice some people to drink more than they would if the stuff in their bottle was just plain water.
Figure 6-1 Water Loss as a Percentage of Body Weight Related to Performance and Symptoms*
0% |
Normal heat regulation and performance. |
1% |
Thirst is stimulated, heat regulation during exercise is altered, performance begins to decline. |
2%-3% |
Further decrease in heat regulation, increased thirst, worsening performance. |
4% |
Exercise performance cut by 20-30%. |
5% |
Headache, irritability, “spaced-out” feeling, fatigue. |
6% |
Weakness, severe loss of thermoregulation. |
7% |
Collapse is likely unless exercise is stopped. |
*“Nutrition for Cyclists,” Grandjean & Ruud, Clinics in Sports Medicine, Vol. 13(1): 235-246, Jan. 1994. |
|
Alcohol and caffeine inhibit one of the kidney’s hormones that regulates water loss, so drinking either alcohol or caffeine will accelerate dehydration.
The table below shows the amount of water you should drink to stay healthy and maintain your energy.
According to a study cited in Exercise Physiology: Energy, Nutrition, and Human Performance,VI an individual weighing 160 pounds, carrying a heavy pack uphill, burns about 625 calories per hour. Compare that to a cross-country skier from the same study, who, skiing across level ground, burns only 612 calories per hour. You need to eat plenty of food to keep your energy levels up while outdoors. Eat a lot for breakfast, snack all day, and then eat a big dinner to stay warm during the night. It is better to eat several small snacks throughout the day than have a big lunch. It is analogous to feeding a fire continually with small amounts of wood instead of tossing all the wood on the fire in one fell swoop.
Figure 6-2 Recommended Daily Water Intake According to Weight
Body Weight in Pounds |
Liters H2O at Rest |
100 |
3 |
120 |
3.6 |
140 |
4.2 |
160 |
4.8 |
180 |
5.4 |
200 |
6 |
In our image-conscious culture, some people treat a trip to the backcountry as yet another opportunity to lose weight. I have been with people who try to diet on what is already a strenuous trip. Inevitably they run low on energy during the day, slow the group, and don’t pull their weight. Chances are that with the rigorous exercise you get in the backcountry you’ll lose weight no matter what you eat. Regardless, it’s not fair to the rest of your teammates to let your energy reserves run low for the sake of your waistline. Leave that silliness back in the city.
The LNT principles for hiking in the backcountry are the same as the camping principles:
• Hike on durable surfaces.
• In heavily used areas, concentrate use.
• In remote areas, spread use.
The best place to hike whenever you’re in the near vicinity is on an established trail. Trails are laid out to get you through the backcountry without creating too much erosion. Land managers have built and maintained trails connecting popular destinations and have contoured the trails to make reasonable walking grades.
Someday when you’re walking down the trail in the backwoods, you’ll come to a point where the trail forks into two, three, or even four parallel trails that continue for 50 yards or so and then rejoin to form the main trail. What you’re seeing is likely the result of hikers walking off the trail to avoid a muddy spot. Depressions along the trail get muddy in the same spots year after year and lots of hikers step off the trail to stay out of the mud. The problem with sidestepping all the mud puddles is that it turns once single-lane trails into multilane freeways much more prone to erosion. While it’s human to want to avoid the wet spots, do your best to stay on the trails, even if it means getting your boots muddy. Wearing waterproof boots and a pair of gaiters will make you more likely to stay on the trail regardless of the conditions.
Some hikers leave the trail on steep switchbacks and take shortcuts straight up the hill. The shortcutters make vertical trails of their own that make perfect channels for water runoff and heavy-duty erosion. While you may knock off a few minutes with a shortcut, the switchbacks in the trail were put there to keep the water from running down the mountain in torrents.
If you decide to leave the main trail system on your trip, you have to be more careful how you travel. First of all, instead of walking single file as you would on a trail, it’s best to spread out and take separate paths through a pristine meadow or forest. Walking in one line through a pristine area starts the trace of a new trail, which is likely to be followed by the next travelers who come along. Spreading out and walking on durable surfaces will leave scant trace of your crossing and, with luck, the area will recover before a new trail is developed.
If you do decide to travel off trail, find the toughest surfaces you can to walk on. Just as with campsites, certain surfaces are more resistant to foot traffic. Dry meadows, forests with little understory, sedges and grasses, rock, snowfields, and dry creekbeds are the most resistant hiking surfaces. The most delicate surfaces are forests with thick understory, wet meadows, alpine cushion plants, and steep slopes (due to the cutting and tearing action boots make on ascents or descents).
Avoid walking on trace trails or trails just being developed. It’s not always clear which is an established trail and which is the work of single-line hikers walking through a pristine area. Use your best judgment.
Jeff Foott is one of the world’s premier wildlife photographers and wildlife cinematographers. His photography has appeared in National Geographic, Audubon, and Smithsonian magazines. The BBC named Foott wildlife photographer of the year and his cinematography on killer whales was nominated for an Emmy award. Foott lives in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
In this interview, I asked Jeff to address the novice-to-intermediate photographer.
Q: What kind of film do you recommend for the outdoor photographer?
A: I recommend 100 ASA slide film such as Fujichrome or Ektachrome E100. It’s fine grained and if you need faster speed for the low-light situations, you can “push” it a stop to 200 ASA. If you’re going to shoot in the outdoors, you should know how to “push” your film. If you’re using 100 ASA film, set the ASA on your camera for 200 and tell the lab to push the film one stop. I have even pushed 100 ASA film two stops to 400 with good results. [Note: you can’t usually change the ASA on point-and-shoot cameras.] One of the reasons I recommend slide film is that you can make good prints from slide film but you can’t make good slides from print film.
Q: What sort of equipment and lenses do you recommend for the backpacker?
A: It’s a matter of weight versus quality. If you really want to go light, the new point- and-shoots are pretty damn good. But if you carry an SLR [single lens reflex] camera, you might as well carry a small tripod. I would recommend a wide-angle lens (24mm-28mm) and a 55mm or 60mm macro lens for the close-up shots. If I could only take one telephoto lens, I would go with a 105mm. If you’re really going to shoot outdoors a lot, you might consider getting a Nikon FM2. It’s really light and works well in cold weather.
I would also recommend taking a polarizing filter. Foliage and the crystals on rock faces give off a lot of glare. The polarizing filter will help cut out the glare and will saturate the colors. It will make the sky darker and bluer. I always use it on mountains, rocks, and vegetation.
Q: What advice do you have for shooting in bad weather?
A: It’s no big deal, really. Cameras these days can handle most anything. If it’s really cold, I take some of that flexible Styrofoam packing material and put it on the parts of the equipment that I have to handle when shooting pictures—tripod legs, the focus ring on the lens, and things like that. I cover the Styrofoam with cotton gaffer’s tape.
Q: What can the budding photographer do to improve his or her composition?
A: If you divide your photo into thirds both vertically and horizontally, you get a sort of tic-tac-toe grid with four points of intersection. Those are the strongest compositional points and where you should put your subject in the photo. The center of the grid is the weakest point of composition. The biggest mistake people make with horizons is to put them right in the middle of the photo. The horizon should go at the top third or bottom third of the photo.
The view through your camera. Don’t center all your subjects. Dividing your viewfinder in thirds vertically and horizontally gives an imaginary tic-tac-toe grid and four points of intersection. Try putting your subject on one of those points for stronger composition.
Q: What should the photographer know about approaching wildlife?
A: Simply this: Don’t harass the wildlife. If you disturb the natural wildlife behavior, that, by definition, is harassment.
Q: What’s your advice on getting the right exposure?
A: Getting the correct exposure is an art. One thing I can suggest is to avoid metering off the sky even if the sky will be part of your composition. Meter off neutral colors on the ground in front of you, and then compose your picture with that same meter reading. That usually works pretty well.
Your route may be so easy that the only terrain you cross is rolling hill and lightly perfumed dale, but even if that is the case there are still objective hazards out there. An objective hazard is a danger that exists in nature independent of anything you do. Objective hazards include poor weather, swift rivers, rock fall, and avalanches. You can manage or mitigate objective hazards, but you can’t eliminate them. You can’t stop a lightning storm, but you can get off the ridge when it comes in. Your job when encountering an objective hazard, be it a snowfield or a raging river, is to first use your judgment and decide if tackling the hazard is within your competence. Then your job is to use the best techniques possible to minimize the danger.
Bushwhacking through the wilds of Chilean Patagonia on a NOLS semester course. Deborah Sussex
On a topographical map, a river is but a thin blue line that tells little about the speed, force, and volume of the water. When you spread your maps out and plan your route, you can estimate a river’s size by looking at the amount of terrain it drains, but you won’t know for sure until you get to the river itself. River crossings are at once exhilarating, challenging, frustrating, dangerous, and satisfying. On a nice summer day, crossing a river can be the highlight of the trip. On a cold, rainy day when the footing is slick and the current strong, crossing a river can be dangerous and frustrating.
In heavily used areas, land managers sometimes construct foot bridges across rivers, so you can just stroll across. But in wilder areas, you don’t have the advantage of a stout bridge; knowing how to evaluate rivers and how to choose whether to cross, where to cross, and how to cross a river safely need to be part of your repertoire as an outdoorsperson. The most important tool to have as a river crosser—even more important than strong legs and a big stick—is judgment and respect for the water. If you can evaluate a river crossing and make a sound decision as to whether or not you should cross it, you will enjoy the mountains longer than the guy with the huge legs, no fear, and no judgment.
Small streams and creeks can be crossed with little trouble, but you have to be willing to get your feet wet. If there is a dry, sturdy log nearby, or a series of stable rocks that brook the crossing, there’s no reason not to take advantage of them. But some people go to great and dangerous lengths to keep their feet dry—crossing slimy logs or making great leaps between moss-covered rocks—and usually end up in the drink anyway. If keeping your boots dry means risking a turned ankle or worse, it’s just not worth it. One NOLS instructor I’ve worked with deliberately walks across every stream of consequence in the water just to make the point to his students.
If you have doubts about crossing a river, scout upstream and downstream until you find a place you feel comfortable crossing. You may have to scout a mile or more before you find a good ford. Scout in pairs and have an agreed upon time for returning. Always consider the consequences of the runout—where the river would take you if you fell. Sometimes you can walk upstream, cross a small tributary and then the main channel with less volume.
Scouting
The bigger, faster river crossings are more involved. The first thing to do when you come to a strong river is to scout around for the easiest crossing site. You may find a widening in the river just a quarter mile upstream that poses far less risk than where the trail meets the river. If the river is strong and dangerous, you may need to spend considerable time scouting up and down the river—even a mile or two. Break up your party into two groups: one to scout downstream and the other upstream. Have an arranged time to meet back at the packs.
A rough rule of thumb is that you can only cross rivers that travel at your walking speed or slower. It may give you perspective on the river’s speed to throw a stick or pine cone upstream and walk alongside the object as it descends. The speed of a river can be deceiving when the river runs through a smooth stretch.
Listen for the telltale signs of stones or boulders rolling down the riverbed. If you hear a deep rumbling and clinking sound, it means the current is strong enough to sweep large stones downstream. That should give you some idea of the river’s strength and that you will have the added risk of rocks hitting you in the shins.
If you have doubts about the strength of the river, take your pack off and test the waters without your pack. Find a large pole and probe the current ahead of you. The pole will also help you probe the depth so you don’t accidentally step into a deep hole. You may want to hold the pole in one hand and link hands with a friend to give you support and perhaps drag you back out if the current is too strong.
Once you find a potential crossing, consider where the river would take you if you lost your footing and fell. Your crossing may seem perfectly safe but if it is perched above big rapids, then you need to find another crossing. Potential hazards downstream of your crossing include rapids, strainers (trees that have fallen into the river), cataracts, and steep banks that would prevent you from climbing out of the water.
Once you do decide to cross the river, waterproof the essential items in your pack such as your sleeping bag, food, camera, and warm clothes. Take your socks off, but leave your boots on to give you the support you need.
A good way to cross a river with a slow to moderate current is in a group holding hands. This group of NOLS students is crossing the Gila River in Arizona’s Gila Wilderness. John McConnell
Crossing Methods
There are several methods for crossing rivers. The method you choose will depend on the strength of the river and the strength of the individuals in the group. But whether you are crossing alone or in a group, the following tips will help you stay balanced and focused.
• When crossing a river, face upstream into the current. Facing upstream puts you in a stronger, more balanced position, forces the weight onto the balls of your feet, and allows you to watch for dangerous objects floating downstream.
• Don’t stare at the current straight in front of you. Flowing water can be hypnotic or cause a sort of vertigo. Shift your gaze from point to point, keeping an eye on your destination, the water upstream (for obstacles), and the footing below you for holes or irregularities in the bed.
• Wear your boots. Not only will your boots give you better footing, they will also protect you against rolling rocks being carried downstream by the current.
• Do not cross one leg behind or in front of the other as you traverse the river. Instead, shuffle your feet like a tennis or basketball player. Crossing your legs makes you more vulnerable to tripping.
• Hipbelts: When and whether to use the hipbelt on your pack while crossing a river is a contentious subject. The advantage of using your hipbelt while crossing a river is that it stabilizes your pack by keeping the weight from shifting so much, and thereby helps you stay balanced. The disadvantage is that if you fall while crossing you may not be able to get your pack off to save yourself. You can well imagine the danger of having a 40-, 50-, or 60-pound pack tightly strapped to your body while you’re trying to escape a strong river current. Here are some rules of thumb for using a hipbelt. If the water is above your knees, take your hipbelt off before crossing; or if the current is strong enough that you decide to cross in a group, then take your hipbelt off.
• Shoulder straps: Even with your hipbelt off, it can be very difficult to shed your pack. Slightly loosening your shoulder straps makes it easier to get your pack off in an emergency.
• Using a stick: A strong stick can be your best friend when crossing a river. You can use a stick to probe the depths in front of you and you can use the stick for balance. Find a stick from five to seven feet long, and make sure it is truly strong (i.e., no rotten sections or cracks). Some people use collapsible ski poles or walking sticks to help them cross rivers. Collapsible poles are fine for moderate rivers but should be used with caution on strong rivers simply because they tend to do just what their name suggests: collapse.
The advantage of crossing a river alone is that if you get swept off your feet, you won’t drag your teammates with you. The corollary is of course that your teammates can’t catch you either. Crossing the river alone makes sense in slow currents when everyone in the group is reasonably strong and balanced.
In stronger currents, consider crossing the river in a small group of two to five people. The simplest way is to link arms or hold hands. The strongest person should go first as he or she will have the best chance of recovering and turning back if the river is too strong. If you cross in a group of three, put the weakest person in the middle so the stronger members on the outside can support him.
You can also cross rivers in a single line, a technique also known as the “eddy method.” This style may be your best choice in the really strong rivers. Put your strongest members at the front and the back of the line. The advantage here is that those in the middle are buffered from the current. The person in the front of the line should have a large stick to lean on. The next person in line, number two, puts his hand on the shoulders or pack of person number one both to support him and to put pressure on that person’s feet, should he or she have trouble with the footing. The third person stands directly behind the second person, also with his hands on the pack or shoulders in front. The entire line moves across the river in tandem like a centipede.
Eddy-method river crossing. In strong currents, joining the team together in a sort of human train can make the going easier. Put a strong person at the head of the chain with a stick to lean on, if possible. Each person helps the member in front of him by grasping the pack and offering firm support. The group moves in tandem.
When and Where
If you are doing your trip in the western United States, remember that the river will be strongest in the afternoon after the sun has melted the snow up in the high country. You might have better luck crossing the river in the early morning before the sun hits. The water can be ice cold but also lower and slower. The time of year affects the river’s flow as well. In mountainous parts of the world, the spring usually brings the fastest waters as the snow melts.
Rivers get smaller the higher you hike up the valley because they have fewer and fewer tributaries. If the spot where you want to cross looks too big, take a look at your map and see if there is a tributary joining the river nearby. Perhaps you can hike up to that tributary, cross it, and then cross the main river.
Look for braids in the river where the total volume of water is divided into two or three channels.
In the Event of a Fall
If you do fall and are swept downstream, you need to be able to ditch your pack and swim for shore. Try to get your feet downstream. You can use your feet to ward off rocks and your hands to paddle toward shore or away from hazards.
To people, such as kayakers, who habituate the waters, perhaps the most dangerous hazard is the strainer. Should you find yourself heading toward a strainer without the possibility of avoiding it, your goal is to avoid getting sucked under it. River guides advise actually swimming toward the strainer to pick up speed so you can better swim up onto it.
The first in your group to cross the river can act as spotters downstream from the crossing. They should be prepared to help fallen members escape the current but should keep in mind their own limits in wading out to help. If you can’t reach the downed person with just your arm, try a stick or a pile jacket. If you are a spotter on the side of a river and need to rescue someone in the water, there is a good mantra to remember: “Reach, throw, then row or go.” It is safest to rescue a person in the water by extending a stick or even a jacket if they are close enough. Failing that, throw them a rope if you can. And finally, only as a last resort should you swim to their assistance.
River crossings are one of the more dangerous parts of your travel day. Always be ready to change your route or turn back if the river is too strong.
Crossing a boulder field, you need to be in balance and ready to react to a wobbly rock. If you know you have a long boulder field to cross, you may want to rest, eat, and drink before crossing it. Tuck in loose clothing or straps that might trip you. If the boulders are very large—say six feet tall and over— you may need free hands to help you negotiate the terrain. If you’re carrying a walking stick, you may want to put it in your pack to free your hands. Picking a line through a boulder field is akin to picking a line down a mogul field (if you’re a skier). Look ahead often and try to pick out your line two or three steps ahead of the game. Step near the center of rocks; stepping on the edges may flip an unstable boulder.
Picking a line through a boulder field is akin to picking a line down a mogul field on a ski slope. You may want to rest, snack, and hydrate yourself before crossing a difficult boulder field so that your concentration is at its best. Mark Harvey
If you have ever heard the menacing whir and hum of a free-falling rock, you know the deadly speed and force of rockfall. Falling rocks are one of the leading causes of accidents in mountaineering. Probably the only way to completely eliminate the danger of rockfall is to stay out of the mountains. But you can reduce the danger by knowing something about the nature of falling rocks—the where and when—and then by choosing your route and timing carefully.
Any route that is steep and rocky at least has the potential of falling rocks. But some steep and rocky areas are much less stable than others. You can begin your evaluation of the route by looking for clues of recent action. Recall the saying “rolling stones gather no moss.” If you see piles of rubble and fresh scars at the base of steep pitches, you have obvious evidence that the area is prone to rockfall. Rock piles covered with moss and lichen, by contrast, suggest more stability
Look at the rock itself. Igneous rocks such as granite and andesite are more stable than metamorphic rock such as schist, slate, and gneiss, and sedimentary rocks such as shale and sandstone. You don’t have to identify the rocks by their taxonomy to determine their strength. Touch the rock and look at it. Can you peel chunks of it off the walls around you, or is it strong enough to chin yourself on?
On steep switchbacks with the possibility of rockfall, “corral” your group on the corners so that you don’t have one hiker kicking rocks on hikers below.
Climate, weather, season, and time of day affect the stability of rocks too. Areas that receive lots of freezing and thawing will be less stable than moderate climates with the same rock composition. Spring thaws dislodge rocks that have been kept stable by winter’s ice. The daily cycle of freezing and thawing affects rockfall too. The slopes are most stable in the early morning before sun begins melting snow and ice. East slopes receive the first sun and thus the rock will begin to loosen on those slopes first. South slopes follow and finally west slopes.
You can allay the danger of falling rock in several ways:
• Try to stay on ridges and avoid couloirs. Rocks, like water, follow couloirs.
• Plan your route so that you are crossing the areas prone to falling rock during the early morning before the ice has melted.
• Do not take breaks in the middle of the combat zone. Find a sheltered place to take a break.
• Keep your group close together so falling rocks don’t have a chance to gain speed. On switchbacks you greatly reduce the risks of rockfall by keeping everyone on the same zig or the same zag and then “corralling” the group at the turns. In other words, every time the trail makes its switchback, wait for the entire group to catch up before taking the turn. It takes longer to travel this way, but you ensure that no one is below you.
• If you have to cross an area with rockfall potential, take the shortest route across that exposed area even if it means making the other part of your route longer.
• If you have a helmet, wear it across the area in doubt.
• If you see a rockfall and it has the potential to hit anyone in the group, yell “Rock!” loudly. Better to cast the false alarm than to study the weight and speed of the missile as it gains terminal velocity. At that point the person below will have only milliseconds to react.
• Make sure members of the group know what to do when a rock falls in their direction. If you’re at the base of a cliff or near a big boulder, press up close to the steepest part. Rocks falling down steep slopes or cliffs tend to get bounced away from the slope. If you’re not near a cliff, try to hide behind the nearest big tree or large boulder.
• Tread lightly. Big packs, big boots, and fatigue make clumsy feet. Clumsy feet kick rocks. Concentrate on your foot placement when there is a dangerous rock field.
Crossing snowfields high in the mountains is one of the great joys of backpacking and mountaineering. The moment of finding a snowfield in the middle of July, when all about you is hot and dry, can make the whole trip worthwhile. But snow is a plastic form, hard to judge at its best and downright deadly at its worst. Climbers speak of “antiseptic granite,” a form of rock that is stable, predictable, and strong. Snow is the antiseptic granite’s opposite: more mysterious and harder to judge. A thorough discussion of avalanches, use of crampons, and ice climbing is beyond the scope of this book, but every hiker should know something about snow in its myriad forms and be alert to the hazards of crossing snow and ice.
Postholing
Postholing means plunging up to your crotch when the snow surface you’re crossing gives way. Typically you’ll posthole on spring or summer days when the sun has had time to melt the surface. Postholing is frustrating and even dangerous if you are not expecting it. The danger is in breaking through the crust with a fully loaded pack and landing on a straightened leg. The weight of the pack and the sudden impact on the leg can hyperextend a knee or sprain an ankle. If you cross a snowfield, be aware that you may break through and posthole; you’ll have a better chance of landing with a bent knee and softening your fall. If you suspect a weak crust and the possibility of postholing, don’t put all your weight on your foot at once; gradually weight your foot and test the surface. When crossing a snowfield watch for tips of boulders and bushes. The snow often forms cavities around plants and rocks that make perfect spots to posthole. The edges of snowfields are typically less firm (from melting) than the center, so be ready for the crust to break both when first stepping onto the snowfield and when exiting the snowfield. Snowfields are firmest in the early morning before the sun has had a chance to melt the surface.
Self-Arrest on Snow
Slips and slides on snow are another leading cause of accidents, injuries, and fatalities in the mountains. A snowfield with a 30-degree pitch at the top and a 5-degree runout may be a perfectly safe place to cross and even glissade. But a snowfield with a 30-degree pitch that sits above a boulder field or a cliff may be completely unsafe for those traveling without ice axes and good self-arresting skills. The runout, all the terrain below the snowfield, determines in large part whether or not you should cross it. Look for boulders, drops, and trees that sit in the path you would take if you were to fall. The firmness of the snow also determines whether or not you’ll be able to self-arrest. Early in the morning, after a cold night, snowfields can be rock hard. It is very difficult to slow a fall on frozen snow. Test the conditions with a few kicks of your boot before crossing a field.
Self-arrest without an ice axe. The time it takes you to arrest depends on snow hardness, the pitch of the slope, the weight of your pack, and your technique. Arresting on a hard, steep slope requires an ice axe.
If you plan to do a lot of traveling on glaciers or snowfields, you need to learn to stop yourself in the event of a slip or stumble—self-arresting. To really self-arrest quickly on a steep slope requires an ice axe and lots of practice. But you can self-arrest on moderate grades without an axe and the skill for doing so is a good one to know and practice. On some NOLS courses we find a snowfield with a safe runout and spend several hours practicing crossing techniques and self-arrests. Students practice self-arresting with and without an axe from all positions of a fall—on their backs, on their stomachs, head downhill, and feet downhill. It takes practice on real snow to learn to stop yourself, but it’s good fun learning and the skill may one day save you from injury or death.
To arrest without an axe you need to somehow get onto your stomach with your feet downhill and dig your elbows and your toes into the snow. It is very difficult to arrest if your whole body is flat against the snow. To stop effectively you need to get the most force onto your elbows and toes, by raising your seat up into the air away from the snow and creating a sort of bent bridge between your feet and your elbows. Spreading your feet slightly wider than hip width will give you more stability as you arrest.
You may get lucky and fall right onto your stomach with your feet downhill. But you might also stumble and fall onto your back with your head downhill. No matter how you fall, you have to right yourself to the correct position.
Walking on Snow
On moderately pitched snowfields, you can walk flat-footed and still get enough traction to ascend or cross a slope. Often the most comfortable style for ascending snowfields is a duck-footed walk. But as the snow gets steeper, you need to kick steps with the toe of your boot (unless you are wearing crampons). The most energy-efficient way to kick steps is to swing the whole leg back in an exaggerated motion and then swing it forward into the snow, letting the weight and momentum of your boot break the snow. You shouldn’t have to kick a huge platform with each step, just a small ledge to step up onto. The leader’s steps should be nearly level ledges that the person behind can step up onto without having to contort the ankle up or down. The leader’s strides should also be small enough to be comfortable for the smaller hikers in the group.
There’s no sense having everyone in the party waste energy by kicking their own new steps. The leader can kick the steps, while the people in the back follow along, being careful to improve the steps with their own boots. Because leading up snowfields is strenuous, the lead position should be changed as often as is necessary. If the snow is so hard that you can’t kick a step with one swing of your leg, you should not be crossing the slope without crampons and an ice axe.
You can descend moderate snowfields glissading, which means sliding down on your feet as if you’re skiing on your boots. But once again, pay careful attention to the pitch of the slope and the runout. If you’re in doubt, play it conservatively and find an alternate route or plunge step down the snow.
Plunge stepping is akin to the goose stepping of Prussian armies. Facing downhill, you swing your leg out in front of you, straighten it, and then violently plunge your heel through the crust. The best position for plunge stepping is to be slightly bent over at the waist—nose over toes.
Avalanches
When I was in my late teens, an avalanche nearly buried me while I was backcountry skiing with my brother and a friend. We went skiing on a very steep gully that we had skied for years without problems. I went first and skied about 400 feet down the powder and then stopped to watch my brother and friend. Looking up the hill, I saw a puff of white below where they were standing and knew immediately an avalanche had started. Nearly without thinking, I turned my skis downhill, got some speed, and skied up and out of the gully just as the avalanche blew by me. The speed and power of this avalanche stunned me. It covered the 400 feet in just a few seconds, had chunks in it the size of a sofa, and flattened every small tree in its path. If the thing had caught me I assume I wouldn’t be here today writing about it.
In retrospect, we had no business skiing there that day. It had snowed heavily that week and the terrain had every characteristic of wanting to slide: It was a steep gully, had no trees and was snowladen. Having skied the chute so many times over the years, we had become blasé about the dangers and we couldn’t resist the powder.
This is not a book on technical mountaineering so my discussion of avalanches here will be brief. But even if you’re just a summer hiker, it’s worth knowing the basics of avalanches.
Avalanches are most common on slopes with a pitch of between 30 and 45 degrees, though they frequently occur on pitches ranging from 25 to 55 degrees. Slopes shallower than 25 degrees rarely slide simply because they lack the grade. Slopes steeper than 55 degrees don’t normally collect enough snow to make them avalanche prone.
There are two types of avalanches: slab avalanches and loose-snow avalanches. When the snow is cohesive enough to slide as a single unit, you can have a slab avalanche. Heavy new snow and wind-deposited snow often form a dense slab that will break off and slide given the right conditions. Loose-snow avalanches form from snow that does not have the structural integrity of the slab. They start at one point and develop speed and volume as they descend.
Slab avalanches are likely to occur when the outermost layer sits on a weak or slippery layer below it. The weak layer can be a grassy hillside, a layer of ice, a wind or sun crust, or hoar crystals formed during cold nights. The hoar crystals make a weak layer because they bond poorly with the adjoining layers and shear easily as well.
Avalanches are most likely to start on treeless slopes, couloirs, and bowls. Convex slopes are particularly prone to slides because the shape creates a point of tension in the snow layers. In the Northern Hemisphere, north-facing slopes are more apt to slide in the winter and south-facing slopes are more apt to slide in the spring. In the winter, the north-facing slopes are colder and develop more hoar frost. What’s more, the cold temperatures mean that the north-facing snow takes longer to consolidate and stabilize. But in the spring, the south-facing slopes are made unstable by the meltwater.
The information here is a cursory introduction to avalanches and is meant only to help you identify the hazards should you be traveling on snow-covered mountains in the spring. Even the most experienced winter mountaineers can’t predict avalanches with certainty. If you plan to do any winter mountaineering, you would do well to study the subject in depth with books and classes.
In a recent conversation I had with Drew Leemon, director of risk management at NOLS, he said he considered subjective hazards—the human factor—to be just as dangerous as objective hazards, such as rivers, avalanches, or rockfall, in backcountry travel. As the name suggests, subjective hazards have everything to do with human judgment and human error. If a person attempts a peak despite deteriorating weather and suffers hypothermia, was it the objective hazard of the storm or the subjective hazard of the person’s decision to push ahead that caused the injury? As Phil Powers points out in his book NOLS Wilderness Mountaineering, “It should be clear that it is impossible to separate objective from subjective dangers completely.”VII
A person’s frame of mind, judgment, and experience all determine the level of subjective hazard. Someone who pays thousands of dollars and devotes a lot of time to attempt a mountain summit may suspend good judgment and take unnecessary risks in trying for the summit despite dangerous weather conditions or personal limitations.
Fatigue, hunger, and dehydration all add to the subjective hazards of back-country travel. The exhausted and poorly nourished person simply can’t make the same good decisions she would make if she were well rested and well fed. Tired campers aren’t usually as vigilant in doing the camp chores: pitching a taut tent, dressing well to stay warm, staying abreast of the navigation, etc.
A group’s ability to work well together and communicate effectively plays a role as well. The group that discusses problems, plans, and the environmental factors will likely make better decisions than individuals would. When communication breaks down, sometimes egos get in the way of clear thinking and clear planning. Likewise, the competence of the group’s leader makes a huge difference in determining the hazards of travel. Inexperienced travelers following a leader with poor judgment put themselves at risk regardless of the objective hazards.
Sometimes subjective hazards manifest themselves in the early planning of the trip. The food, equipment, and maps you bring, along with your contingency plans, may determine whether or not your party members stay safe and healthy. Bringing bad gear or not having a contingency plan is human error, not something wrought by nature.
The objective hazards of the backcountry will always be there, be it a weather system or a steep rock face. But our state of mind, our judgment, our skill level, and our planning all help determine just how safe or dangerous the trip is.
When you travel in a large group, it’s especially important that you be considerate of your fellow hikers. In fact, the first thing to do when traveling in a large group is to break up into smaller groups. There is something disheartening about encountering a group of ten hikers out on the trail. Somehow, meeting two groups of five is less offensive.
Take your lunch breaks and rest breaks well off the trail. No one likes to have to trip through someone’s salami and cheese.
Usually the group going uphill has the right of way over the group going downhill. But if you’re young and strong, you probably have the agility to cede the way to everyone coming your way.
If you are traveling on foot and meet horsepackers on the trail, keep it in mind that you have more mobility than those on the horses. Therefore, you should cede the trail to those traveling with stock. Most horses in the mountains have had enough experience to take backpackers in stride, but certain horses spook when confronted with hikers. On hills, step to the downside of the trail so if the horse does spook it will run up the hill instead of down the hill, giving the rider a better chance of bringing the horse back into control.
When it comes right down to it, wilderness areas are one of the last public domains where you can light up without being told by a firm voice that smoking is not allowed. If you take a NOLS course, you have to leave the smokes and the booze behind (for a variety of reasons), but for some people—in the words of Willie Nelson—“The reasons to quit don’t outnumber all the reasons why.” The fact is, many people choose to bring tobacco and alcohol on their trips and do so responsibly. All we can advise you of are the peculiar hazards associated with drugs, alcohol, and smoking in the wilderness and of some precautions to take.
Carelessly flick an ash onto the ground in a dry forest and suddenly Marlboro country becomes Yellowstone—the sequel. Take the same precautions with your cigarettes as you would with your campfire. Cast-off cigarette butts give the woods the ambiance of an ashtray or a cigar bar. If you don’t want to put the butt in your pocket because of loose tobacco, you can “field strip” it. Take the extinguished butt and roll it vigorously between your fingers so the tobacco is dispersed and all you’re left with is the filter. The tobacco will compost nicely and you’re left only with a neat filter to pack out in your pocket or your pack.
If you take alcohol with you, at least stay sober when you have dangerous tasks in front of you. Alcohol is a vasodilator and can lead to hypothermia. It gives you a sense of being warm as it dilates blood vessels in your extremities when in fact you are losing heat from your core. What’s more, alcohol impairs your most important safety device: your brain. Drinking responsibly in the backcountry, then, means taking the normal precautions you need to take drinking anywhere plus the added precautions you should take in your remote setting.
The best advice with regard to foot care is to stop and take care of “hot spots” before they develop into blisters.
A blister is your body’s way of telling you your boots don’t fit, they aren’t broken in, or your feet are still too tender for the miles you’re covering. The body is kind enough to warn you first with “hot spots,” and it’s a warning you would do well to heed. The best advice on blisters is to avoid getting them in the first place. The pains you take to care for your feet early on will reward you in doubloons later down the trail. It’s especially important that you stop and take care of your feet early in the trip when your feet are still tender. If you take your boots and socks off at rest breaks, you get a chance to look for red areas, which may indicate incipient hot spots. What’s more, it allows your feet to cool.
Any time you begin to get a blister, try to figure out a way to relieve pressure on the area. That may mean loosening your boots, removing a pair of socks, or even cutting a hole in your socks around the offending area. If you discover a blister early on when it’s still just a hot spot, you can just put a piece of athletic tape or Adhesive Knit (a brand-name adhesive material made of woven fiber that stretches and conforms to the body and is also breathable) over the sore area and usually that will be sufficient protection.
If you wait until the blister develops into a full bubble, the solution becomes more complicated and involves more stuff out of your first-aid kit. Now you really need to relieve the pressure around the sore area. Tod Shimelpfenig, coauthor of NOLS Wilderness First Aid, suggests the rule of nickels for deciding whether or not to lance a blister. If the blister is smaller than a nickel, don’t lance it because you’ll increase the chance of infection. If the blister is bigger than a nickel, it will likely break anyway, so you are better off draining it yourself. Drain the big blisters with a sterilized knife or needle (making a small hole), and then clean them with an antiseptic like zephiran. Cut a piece of molefoam of a size that generously covers the blister. Then cut a smaller hole in the molefoam, making a little donut shape. The donut should fit around the blister, the idea being that the molefoam relieves the pressure from the injury. Fill the molefoam donut with an antibiotic cream and cover the whole donut with athletic tape.
The other solution is to use 2nd Skin directly over the blister, followed by a layer of Adhesive Knit to keep the 2nd Skin in place. 2nd Skin, which can be bought in most drugstores, is a padding that has a high water content. It can be cut into different sizes and shapes and has a slimy, lubricating quality that does a nice job of protecting a sore spot.
You can also do a hybrid of these methods. Cut a molefoam donut, put it around the blister, then cut a piece of 2nd Skin and put it in the donut’s hole over the blister. Cover the whole thing with athletic tape.
V. Bruce Hampton, Children of Grace, Henry Holt and Company, 1994, p. 270.
VI. By William D. McArdle, Frank I. Katch, and Victor L. Katch; William and Wilkins, 1996.
VII. Phil Powers, NOLS Wilderness Mountaineering, Stackpole Books, 1993, p. 46.